


Anniversaries, Alarms, and Arguments

by Wonderland_Awaits



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Arguing, Brian and Justin are drama queens, Fluff and Angst, I am the absolute worst at tagging, It ends happy okay, M/M, married!fic, post-5.13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderland_Awaits/pseuds/Wonderland_Awaits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgetting anniversaries usually has bad consequences. But Brian and Justin never do anything half-way, do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversaries, Alarms, and Arguments

Brian’s day had been for complete shit. He’d failed to secure a client for some bullshit, ultra-trendy, over-priced boutique clothing store, the art department had screwed up the new Brown Athletics signs (yet again), and for some reason or another, Justin was mad at him. 

Well okay, he knew why Justin was mad but it wasn’t a good reason, in Brian’s opinion. They were having a slight disagreement on exactly how long they’ve been together (Fiddler and New York not withstanding). Justin wasn’t naive enough to deem the beginning of their relationship that first night; he still maintains that’s the night he fell in love with Brian but that’s not the same things as the beginning of ‘them.’ Justin says it’s from when he laid out their rules but that’s not how Brian sees it.

If he were being honest with both of them, he considered them an official ‘thing’ from the moment he showed up at Justin’s prom. But Justin didn’t remember that so Brian couldn’t claim it as the beginning. This was one of those moments where he wanted nothing more in life than to kill Chris Hobbs. And because talking about the bashing could still upset Justin fairly easily, Brian couldn’t tell Justin about the second night he might want to claim as their anniversary—”Like the first time?” That night had meant everything to both of them and he knew it. So he claimed that he could not and would not fall into the heteronormative trap of having an “anniversary” other than the one of the day they put rings on their fingers.

While they hadn’t gone through with an official ceremony, they did decide that their rings deserved to be worn. And really, Brian wanted to wear them just as badly as Justin did so why not? That anniversary, they did celebrate every year and Brian didn’t even bitch. He loved Justin and making Sunshine happy made him happy. Which is why that day was particularly shitty—fighting with Justin always equaled a less than stellar day. 

While he expected Justin to be in a pissy mood, he wasn’t expecting what he met when he got home. Entering the code to enter the garage he was met with a message in response—ACCESS DENIED. Annoyed, he tried the code again. ACCESS DENIED.

“What the fuck…” he muttered to himself as he placed the Vette in park and walked to the front door to try the lock there. Letting himself into the house, he immediately went about disabling the alarm that would call the local police if not disengaged with the proper password.

Punching in the code he was yet again met with the same message; ACCESS DENIED. It’s not as if they had used a new code when they moved into the house…it was the same code he’d used for years at the loft. Justin and Michael were the only ones who knew the code and only Justin could have changed it so…

“Oh fuck,” Brian ground out as he realized what must have happened. “Justin!” he shouted, hoping for his husband’s sake that he was home. As it turned out, the artist in residence was nowhere to be found. In order to prevent the cops from showing up at the house, he called the security company, verified his identification, and had them disable the alarm. The only issue was, he couldn’t change the passcode without the current one. He had wanted the best security company and this is what he got for his trouble.

Sighing heavily, he decided it was time to call Justin. It rang twice and then went to voicemail. ‘That little shit sent me to voicemail…’ Brian thought to himself. Rolling his eyes, he left a long message for the ‘love of his life,’ detailing how dead his hot little ass would be if he didn’t call Brian back in the next five fucking minutes. 

Six minutes later, his phone rang. 

“Is there something I can help you with, dear?” Justin spat out sarcastically as Brian answered the call. Brian couldn’t believe that Justin was the one that was angry. 

“As a matter of fact, twat, there is. You can fucking tell me what you changed the alarm code to be,” Brian’s retort was just as scathing as Justin’s ‘hello’. They never did anything half-assed and that included fighting. That especially included fighting. 

“Well if you can figure out the date of our anniversary, you won’t need to ask me,” the blond responded, his smirk easily detected in his words. Brian couldn’t fucking believe it. All of this shit over a fucking date that didn’t mean a goddamn thing. 

“Justin, are you fucking kidding me? Give me the code then come home and we’ll sort this out like reasonable adults.” Brian did everything in his power to keep the anger out of his voice. He hated fighting with Justin but fuck if he wasn’t unbearable sometimes. 

“No, Brian. This is important to me. It’s not like I haven’t mentioned it every year for the last, oh I don’t know, five years. You weren’t paying attention and that’s not my fault. I’m having dinner with my mother, Tucker, and Molly and I’ll be home after that. Love you,” and with that, the call ended. 

Brian knew there was nothing he could do but wait for his husband to come home and hope to a god he didn’t believe in, that Justin would have calmed down. But luck was clearly not on his side that day so he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

Not holding his breath had been a good call on the ad man’s part. Justin didn’t drag himself through the front door of the house until almost 10pm. Even then, he ignored Brian’s existence. Finally, Brian was fed up and walked into Justin’s studio where the artist was looking back and forth between two extremely similar paintings. Brian immediately knew what they were—they were Babylon (probably the night Justin had made the rules). How long had he been dwelling on this, Brian had to wonder.

Clearing his throat, Brian made his presence known. Justin turned his head and raised an eyebrow at Brian. He was going to have to remind the artist that stealing from other people was wrong (even if it was just a facial expression). “Can I help you…?” Justin asked slowly in that pretentious, patronizing way that made Brian want to strangle and fuck him simultaneously.

“You can. You can tell me why the fuck this is such a big deal to you and why you’re throwing the biggest fit in the history of the world,” Brian answered his husband, patiently.

Justin rolled his eyes and turned back to examining his paintings. Brian sighed softly and placed himself directly behind the artist. “I don’t know exactly what day that was,” Brian began, it being clear to both of them that he was talking about the paintings. “But I do know that it was a night that changed a lot of things. Changed me. Changed us.” The last words were murmured into Justin’s hair as Brian wrapped his arms around the blond’s waist. He tensed but let Brian do it anyway. 

“So if it was so important, why don’t you remember it? You said that you celebrate and acknowledge achievement—getting you to commit on any level might just be the accomplishment of the century. So what the hell, Brian?” Justin said softly, notes of hurt infiltrating his words. Brian suddenly understood why Justin cared so much.

Occasionally, one of them would have a minor meltdown and start doubting their relationship and its longevity, despite the fact that neither had any ideas of ending things. Brian understood because last time something like this had happened, it was he who was sure Justin would leave him again. 

“Sunshine, I don’t need to remember the date to remember what it meant to me or you,” he said softly, feeling Justin tense in his arms again. He decided to try again. “I don’t need to remember the date because I remember what it meant to us every day. I remember it when I think about the fact that I haven’t kissed another man on the mouth since that night. I remember it in the fact that, unless I’m out of town on business, I’m home by three. I remember it because it’s the night I decided to commit to this annoying little twat I know. It was worth it…most of the time,” he ended the statement with a smirk knowing Justin would understand what he was saying. 

Justin, clearly more relaxed, spoke again when Brian finished. “But…if you know what it is to me, then you must know the feeling yourself. Maybe you buried it deep but it’s there. I just want to know what it is…” he trailed off, afraid to trigger the distant, allergic-to-emotions Brian that still sometimes showed up.

Brian, tired of the conversation, decided to finally come clean. For both of them. “Sunshine…” he sighed bracing himself for the words about to come out of his mouth. “I do know. I can pinpoint the moments that made me realize that you were more than a trick and that I had real feelings for you. I hated and loved those moments in equal measure because a big part of me didn’t want to change. But it was time that I did. The night I showed up at your prom? I knew then. I knew. When you turned and saw me walking towards you in that room? Your face lit up and my breath was taken away. You looked so happy and I knew that I made you feel that way. It made me indescribably happy knowing that. But then Chris fucking Hobbs ruined that night for both of us. I couldn’t count that as the beginning of us when one of us can’t remember it…” Brian told Justin very quietly. His whispered confession brought tears stinging to his eyes. He blinked them away and was thankful that Justin was facing away from him.

Justin squeezed Brian’s hands and wrapped himself deeper in the arms he’d come to associate with safety and comfort. “Brian, I…” Justin started, but Brian cut him off gently.

“Wait, Justin. I need to finish saying this.” He took another deep breath and kept going. “The second time I knew that it was real, the next time that we had a moment we shared, was the first time we were together after the bashing.” Brian’s words were barely audible to Justin.

At that admission, the blond spun around in his husband’s arms, eyes shining with tears. He noticed that Brian’s eyes were just as wet. “The first night we made love after that, you mean?” Justin asked, needing absolute clarity. Brian only nodded. 

“I knew because I would have done anything to help erase what Hobbs had done—to help put you back together again because I couldn’t stand to see you in pain. Justin, I needed you and I realized that on the night of your prom. When I thought I’d lost you forever. I knew I loved you, deep down, a long time before I would admit it to myself. Or you. I remember the dates of both of those things, if that makes any difference.” Brian didn’t meet Justin’s eyes, afraid that the emotions he’d see there would send him over the edge and leave a teary mess. God he hated crying. 

“Brian…I don’t know what to say,” Justin said, touching a hand to Brian’s chin and forcing eye contact. Brian smiled gently.

“Say you’ll change the alarm code back. Then say you’ll come to bed with me now.” Justin laughed and gave a smile worthy of his nickname.

“Yes, I’ll call the company first thing in the morning. And bed? This early?” He was clearly confused by the second part. Brian was amazed that after all of these years, Justin still missed it when he was propositioned, occasionally. 

“Bed indeed. But who the hell said anything about sleep?” Brian pulled Justin flush with his body and placed a scorching kiss on the blond’s lips, only to quickly withdraw. 

Justin smiled wickedly. “I love you, Brian Kinney. Have I ever told you that?” 

“You have, Sunshine. I love you too. Now, come to bed so I can show you just how much,” the words were breathed against Justin’s ear, sending chills through his body.

The couple made their way to the bedroom and concluded their fight in the way they so often did—with emotions, both whispered and shouted, from one body to another without words. 

Brian returned to the house the next day after work to an alarm code that was restored to normalcy and a husband that had absolutely no doubt that they were stuck together, for better or worse, until the end of time. And while it wasn’t conventional, and it sure as hell wasn’t perfect, they were both happy. They both knew what they meant to one another and that’s really all that mattered.


End file.
